


kissed you on the lips (got such a surprise)

by sarahcakes613



Series: Baredio [3]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst, Belts, Daddy Kink, Jealousy, M/M, Subdrop, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:33:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26740705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahcakes613/pseuds/sarahcakes613
Summary: Felipe doesn’t have the words to explain what he is asking for, doesn’t know how to explain that he knows he can’t offer anything like the detective can, but he also knows the detective probably doesn’t dream about wearing marks left by Barba on his skin.
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Felipe Heredio
Series: Baredio [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2105742
Comments: 8
Kudos: 15





	kissed you on the lips (got such a surprise)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Trouble is your middle name (but in the end you're not too bad)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25291591) by [sarahcakes613](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahcakes613/pseuds/sarahcakes613). 



Things have been quiet in his life when Felipe receives the call from his brother. The cabróns who were paying him to threaten the ADA have all been caught and it was in the papers for a week before some celebrity DUI knocked it below the fold.

Now Rigo’s being threatened by members of the Trinitarios, and his repeated requests to change cell blocks have been denied.

“ _Feli, you gotta help me man, I’m sleeping with my eyes open here.”_

_“You gotta be talking to your lawyer, man, what do you want me to do?”_

Rigo sucks in his teeth over the phone.

“ _That comemierda is next to useless, he just keeps telling me he’s ‘looking into it’. Listen, the guy who put me in here, he’s a big man, maybe we can get him to sign off on moving me. Everyone’s got a price, right?”_

Felipe’s hand tightens on the phone. Rigo means ADA Barba. Rigo doesn’t know that Barba can’t be bought, but then again. Maybe Felipe has something he wants.

“ _Look, I’m not making any promises but I’ll see what I can do.”_

* * *

He sends Barba a text. The reply comes a few hours later and is a terse acknowledgement, an agreement to look into the situation, but no promises are made.

Two days later he gets another text from the ADA telling him to come down to his office. A thrill runs down Felipe’s spine and he chooses not to dwell on it. He leaves his piece at home, because he can be a good boy and maybe Barba will tell him so again.

It’s late into the day when he gets to 1 Hogan, and the pretty secretary that was there last time is nowhere to be seen. The door to the inner office is closed and he is just about to knock on it when he hears laughter from inside.

The blinds on the windows are up and Felipe peers through them to see Barba standing in front of his desk talking animatedly with another man. He vaguely recognizes him as one of the cops from the team Barba works with. He’s tall and thin, with slicked back hair and an easy smile. He’s angled towards Barba, his body language open and inviting, and Felipe hates him on sight.

The ADA clearly appreciates whatever story he is telling, because his head is thrown back in laughter and he brings a hand up to clasp the cop on the upper arm. Felipe’s hands curl into fists, his eyes burning. He’s angry, he doesn’t know why he was called down here unless it was to be humiliated.

As he watches, unable to tear his eyes away or even blink, the cop ducks his chin sheepishly and says something that makes Barba’s eyes go soft. Their hands are dangling side by side, their fingers just brushing. Their heads tilt closer together and Felipe stumbles away from the window, unwilling to see whatever happens next.

He rushes out into the hall, sucking in deep shuddering breaths. He is facing away from the office when he hears them. He curls in on himself and they don’t seem to notice him as he hears the ADA say goodnight to the cop.

As one set of footsteps retreats, the other approaches.

“What are you doing here?”

Felipe turns, sullen. “You told me to come down here. I thought maybe you had something about Rigo’s situation.”

The ADA looks quizzically at him. “I didn’t tell you to do anything. I haven’t even heard back from his public defender yet.”

Felipe pulls out his phone and silently shows Barba the text he’d received mere hours ago. Barba pulls out his own phone and looks.

“Ah.” He says, thumbing through his sent messages. “I meant to send that to a courier service.”

“Yeah, I figured you weren’t really waiting for me when I saw you with Officer Whiteboy in there.” Felipe huffs, and he knows that he sounds like a petulant child but he doesn’t care.

Barba looks sharply at him. “I don’t know what you think you saw, Felipe, but _Detective_ Carisi is a friend.”

Felipe sucks in his teeth but doesn’t say anything more. Barba sighs and looks up and down the empty corridor.

“You may as well come in, since you’re here.”

Felipe blinks but follows him back into his office. Barba closes the door behind them and lowers the blinds. Felipe doesn’t let himself think about what it means.

“You let all your friends stand close to you like that? You know he wants to fuck you, right?” Even as he says it he is monumentally, painfully aware that it is none of his business. That he has less than zero claims to Barba.

Barba pours himself a drink while Felipe talks, takes a long sip.

“He doesn’t want to fuck me,” Barba replies. “He wants to hold hands in the park and go to the theatre and eat in fancy restaurants. And then he wants to take me home and make love to me.”

Felipe doesn’t know what to say to that.

“Are you going to let him?” Is what he settles on.

“I haven’t decided.” Barba takes another sip of his scotch. “He’s a good man. He’d be a good partner.”

Felipe has nothing he can offer in the face of that. He doesn’t know how to make love, he’s never held anyone’s hand unless it was leading a girl off the dance floor and into a back room.

He has nothing Barba wants but Barba is everything he needs. His hands open and close as he tries to process everything. His eyes are burning again but he refuses to let this bastardo see him cry.

Barba drains his scotch and Felipe panics. He knows that if he leaves now, the ADA is going to go home and call his detective and he’s going to be left alone. He does the only thing he can think of, the only thing he can ever think of when he is front of this man. He drops to his knees.

Barba sucks in a breath. He walks closer to Felipe, putting a hand out to tilt his chin up so their eyes meet.

“What am I going to do with you, nene?” Barba asks softly.

“You could hit me,” Felipe blurts out. “With your belt.”

He sees Barba’s eyes tighten briefly, feels the grip on his chin squeeze and then let go as Barba steps back.

He’s thought about it a lot since the last time he was here. He remembers the smell of the leather in his nose and how his skin had burned even at just the idea of it.

“Please, papi.” Felipe whispers.

Barba shakes his head. “You don’t know what you’re asking, nene.”

“I do,” Felipe shuffles towards him, still on his knees. “Please, I want it. I’m not – I can’t –“ He stops, frustrated. He doesn’t have the words to explain what he is asking for, doesn’t know how to explain that he knows he can’t offer anything like the detective can, but he also knows the detective probably doesn’t dream about wearing marks left by Barba on his skin.

He shuffles forward again and puts his hands on Barba’s thighs. He looks up through his eyelashes and shudders when he sees the darkness in the other man’s eyes.

A decision is made.

“Stand up,” Barba nudges him. “Lean over the desk.”

Felipe scrambles to comply, leaning over it and hooking his hands over the far edge. He is spread wide, a canvas waiting to be painted.

He hears the clink and swish of a belt being unbuckled and pulled through loops, and then the crack as it is experimentally flicked through the air. It drops on the desk next to him and he inhales deeply, breathing in the smell of the cracked leather.

Barba’s hands run around his waist, unbuttoning his jeans and tugging them down. They also push his sweater up to his shoulders, leaving his back on display. There is a surprised hum when Barba sees the Philippians 4:13 tattoo on his rib cage, and it occurs to him that he’s never been this undressed in front of the other man.

One hand strokes the tattoo and then runs down his spine to cup his ass before pulling his boxers down to mid-thigh. The waistband restricts his cock, which has started to fill out, and he feels it throb in complaint.

“Are you going to be good for me, niñito?” Barba murmurs as he picks the belt up. “Are you going to stand there and take it like a good boy?”

“Yes, papi.” Felipe whispers.

There is a whir in the air as the belt flies up and then comes down with a crack on Felipe’s ass. He gasps high in his throat and bucks against the table but does not move and Barba hums approvingly.

He brings the belt down again and again, alternating between Felipe’s ass and his upper back, blows raining down light and fast. It feels good, like a hard rain, but Felipe’s mind is wandering and he shifts to look behind him.

Barba still looks like his usual put-together self. His shirtsleeves aren’t even unbuttoned. He looks detached and that hurts more than the flurry of slaps from the strap. Felipe whimpers.

Barba pauses and leans down over him. Felipe likes this, likes feeling bracketed in by the older man.

“Felipe, if you need to stop – “

“No!” Felipe nearly shouts. “No, please. I want more.” He wants it to hurt, wants it to burn, wants it to cut his skin open so it scabs and scars and even when the ADA leaves for his perfect life with the detective, Felipe has this piece of him all to himself.

He knows that’s what’s going to happen. He knows there was never going to be a happy ending for him, not with this man.

The strikes resume, harder now, and he arches his back into the pain. Barba focuses on the meat of his ass, slapping the leather down over and over, covering it with fiery licks.

“Papi,” Felipe cries out, almost helpless to hold back the want in his voice. His voice cracks and his cock throbs and his hands clench on the wood.

His cock is so hard it is pushing out of his waistband and he tilts his hips to try and rub it against the desk, desperate for the friction. The shift in position causes the next blow to land on the underside of his balls and he yells at the sharp pain that blooms red behind his closed eyes.

He bucks his hips again, rocking against the rough grain of the desk. He can feel his climax building and it almost hurts with how tense his muscles are.

When he does come, it pours out of him like relief, like exhaustion pouring out of a man who has been straining for hours. The hits stop almost immediately and he already misses the sting of it.

He hears the belt drop to the floor and then hears the tinkling of crystal and liquid being poured. Barba’s hand appears in front of him, glass in hand. He lifts it to Felipe’s mouth and he swallows, the burn of scotch inside his throat matching the burn of the skin on his back and ass.

Barba’s other hand comes up to stroke his hair and he thinks idly about how this does more to take him out of his mind than the pain of the belt did. Maybe it’s because he knows this will hurt more when it’s gone. He knows where he can go if he craves the sting but there is no one else in his life he can go to for the caress.

He stands, wincing as he tugs his pants up. His skin is hot to the touch and he can imagine the patchwork of stripes he will see in the mirror tomorrow.

He looks up and his breath catches at the sad look on the lawyer’s face. All at once Felipe feels like he’s been found wanting, like this was a test and he’s failed when he didn’t even know he was supposed to study.

“Felipe,” Barba says. And then again, “Felipe.” He runs a hand through his own hair, messing up the careful swoop of it. “I don’t know what you want from me.” He says.

He laughs, a short bark of sound. “You don’t know what I want from you?” Felipe repeats. “Fuck, abogado man, I don’t know what I want from you either.”

It’s a half-lie, a partial truth. He wants Barba to never stop stroking his hair. He wants Barba to tell him he’s been good, to take him to that floaty place and keep him there.

But tontos like him don’t get to have that. They get this, stolen moments from men who don’t want them back. Felipe swallows and almost chokes on the lump in his throat. His eyes are burning more than his back as he blinks rapidly, but his body is betraying him and tears begin to run silently down his face. He wipes at them furiously, knuckling his eyes.

He doesn’t know why the fuck he’s crying for, he’s been in worse pain than this. He keeps rubbing at his eyes, trying to stem the flow but it won’t be stopped. A hand covers his, lowers it from his face.

“You’re dropping, nene.” Barba says, and Felipe doesn’t know what that means but he hears the word drop and assumes it’s an order. He gratefully does, and Barba gasps as he wraps his arms around the lawyer’s legs and buries his face in the man’s thigh. His suit is smooth and cool against Felipe’s face and this close he can also see the other man’s soft bulge.

Felipe doesn’t want to think about why the other man’s cock is soft, why he derived no pleasure from the pleasure he wrenched out of Felipe. He knows what his papi likes though, and he clumsily paws at the ADA’s zipper, mouth already falling open to take in his papi’s cock.

Barba steps back abruptly. Felipe wavers in his spot, hiccupping on a whimper, and Barba curses under his breath. He comes closer and pulls Felipe up to his feet. Felipe leans in, suddenly achingly desperate for what he knows he isn’t entitled to.

He puts his mouth on Barba’s. The lawyer does not respond at first and Felipe presses, moving his lips, trying to create a kiss where none wants to exist. Barba’s hand snaps up to curl at the back of his neck, his mouth opening and his tongue sliding out. He licks into Felipe’s mouth, taking control of the kiss the way he takes control of everything.

He bites at Felipe’s lower lip, sucking it between his teeth. When he lets go, Felipe’s mouth feels swollen and hot.

Barba pushes Felipe backwards, guiding him to the couch. He urges Felipe to lie down and sits next to him. Felipe wants to curl up on his lap, wants to sink into the cushions and disappear.

“You can never ask me to hit you again, niñito.” Barba’s voice is low, insistent. “Me entiendes?”

“Si, papi.” Felipe’s voice is hoarse and he can hear the dull acceptance in it.

Barba peers down at him. “I’m not sure you do, Felipe. I trusted you to tell me what you need. I won’t hurt you just for the sake of hurting you, and I don’t think pain is what you want.”

As if he has any idea, as if he has any fucking clue what pain feels like to Felipe. He could have given him a hundred more lashes and it wouldn’t have hurt as much as knowing that deep down, at the end of the day, Felipe’s always going to just be some chump banger he fucked with before going home to play house with a respectable policeman.

Barba heaves a sigh but doesn’t say anything more, just sits there with Felipe’s head resting on his thigh, one large hand stroking his hair and his face.

As Felipe’s tears dry, humiliation wells up in their place. He swings himself up to sitting, and then standing.

“I’m – I gotta go.” He mumbles. “You don’t gotta message me again. Rigo’ll tell me if he gets moved.”

“Felipe,” Barba says. He’s still seated, and his voice is muted.

Felipe shakes his head. He doesn’t want to hear whatever the lawyer is going to say next. Opening the door and stepping out into the vestibule feels like the hardest thing he’s ever done.

It seems almost like he makes it all the way down and outside on one long held breath, a breath that he only lets go when he is around the corner on Centre Street.

He looks up and sees the flicker of a curtain, the glint of crystal. He hates himself in that moment because he knows. He knows that if Barba ignores his request, if Barba reaches out to him – never mind that Felipe is always the one doing the reaching – Felipe will grab on with both hands.

**Author's Note:**

> I love this pairing and I will paddle this damn kayak forever.


End file.
